


Hymne a l'amour

by Jacheongbi



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Arthur Morgan's Journal, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling in love via journal, Happy Ending, Insecurity, Inspired by The Lake House, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 05:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17657108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacheongbi/pseuds/Jacheongbi
Summary: As a writer, Crystal was always on the lookout for inspiration. When she came across a journal packed with heartbreak and adventure, she thought she’d found it. Only the journal’s once filled pages are now blank, except for the one writing itself in front of her eyes.





	Hymne a l'amour

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first fic for RDR2! I write for many other fandoms, but I am so deep into my Arthur feels lately that I decided it was time for me to try my hand at writing something for him. This will be sfw for a while, but I am definitely not afraid of smut so there is a good chance some will happen eventually. Forewarning for purists: I am going to be playing fast and loose with the actual journal entries. There will be bits here and there that are canon, but I plan on adding a few original entries as well, like things that I wish he’d written about. Also, you can expect a happy ending because I am not about that hardcore angst life. This is loosely based on the movie The Lake House. Cross-posted on tumblr.

There was something to be said about the smell of an antique store. Sure, some might find it off-putting, but not her. It was the smell of history, of lives lived to their fullest. Her sister regularly argued that it was just the mold and mildew getting to her brain. Whatever it was, the smell has become a sort of comfort for her. 

Crystal Anderson was currently browsing her favorite part of the massive store; the book corner. It was one of the largest spots in the store, with ten bookcases overflowing with every genre, as well as areas for things like photos and basically anything written or printed. She’s often spent hours in this one corner alone, browsing through journals and photos, writing stories in her mind for everyone she saw. 

A few years ago Crystal had been fortunate to find a series of love letters between a couple of world war two nurses, tracked down the family and obtained the rest of the story, leading to a book that was doing very well. She’d even heard there were people circling her agent about a movie. 

She was under no illusions that she’d be able to recreate that success, but here she was scrounging through the random piles yet again. She’d found a few interesting photos, some first edition books in good condition that she’d probably just add to her own collection, and a few journals the shop owner had given her to look over. 

The journals looked especially promising. It wasn’t often that you were able to find actual journals with just about every page filled, and most shops didn’t take them. This particular shop did just for her because she’s been a regular customer for many years and they knew she’d want them. 

There were two in particular that Crystal was excited about. One was owned by a girl growing up during the 1960′s and 70′s, and the little glimpses she had showed the girl was a wild one. 

The second was even more exciting. Based on the wear and tear this thing was old - really old. She hadn’t caught any dates yet, but based on the drawings she was guessing this was straight up wild west era. The thing was bursting with entries and surprisingly good drawings, even maps. Crystal had a feeling this was the find she’d been looking for. 

The man writing was so complex. One moment he was writing about a killing someone without blinking an eye, the next he was going on about how much he wanted to be a good man and doodling little animals. There was even a whole page dedicated to how much he loved his horse. She wasn’t sure if there was a real story in this yet, but she had that gut feeling that this was important. 

That feeling stayed with her as she made her way home, placing her new acquisitions carefully on her desk. She knew she had a long night ahead of her, so she tried her best to put the cowboy ( the man was obviously an outlaw, what with the talk of killings, but cowboy was ever so much fun to say) out of mind and made herself a quick dinner. 

Once she was sufficiently full and dressed in comfortable clothing it was time to work. Crystal grabbed a blank notebook to take notes on important facts she’d find; dates, names, places, etc. She sipped on a cup of tea while her laptop fired up, slowly getting herself into her writing head space. Finally ready, she set her cup far away from the journals and slowly opened the man’s journal, the leather crackling with age. 

It was gone. 

Every single word. 

All gone. 

Crystal’s mind went blank in her confusion. There had to be a rational explanation, right? Maybe she picked up the wrong journal? The outside looked exactly the same as it had, but maybe there were two of them and she hadn’t known? Maybe invisible ink? Did they even have that kind of ink back then? 

She picked up the girl’s journal and cracked it open. It was still the same. Every word was there, the band tickets and flowers still stuck between the pages. 

She went back to the other one and it was still blank. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Crystal set the journal back on the desk, staring at the first page in conflicted wonder. She had no idea what happened. She was certain the writing was still there when she got home. She remembered flicking through on her way to the desk and giggling over a story he’d written about a fox stealing his hat and he’d been forced to chase it. Unless she was currently dreaming, there was no logical explanation for why this journal should be empty. 

She caught a flicker of movement and refocused on the desk. As she watched in horror, a list and a map began to appear on the first two pages, the scrawl the same familiar cursive from before. Once it was finished, she turned the page to see it happening again, a massive drawing of a city filling both sides. When that too was done, her trembling hands turned the page once more, watching as an entry was being written right in front of her. 

**_I bought this new journal, after that last one got destroyed in that fire all those months ago, whenever it was._ **

**_Haven’t written or drawn much in the past few months, but I was missing it more than I thought I would, and finally near a store, so here I am, I guess._ **

**_After all that business up North and the fire, we spent a few months in the wilderness, traveling down from the Northern Grizzlies,_ **

Crystal watched those words appear with both bone-deep terror and maybe a little excitement. Terror, she reasoned, would be anyone’s first reaction. There was apparently a magic book in front of her like she was god damned Harry Potter and she was fresh out of Basilisk teeth to stab it with. However, she was still a bit excited because it was so crazy. Or maybe she was the one crazy, she wasn’t sure yet. Whatever was going on, if she’d bought a haunted book or lost her mind, this was exciting. 

As long as nothing tried to possess her or kill her or something. 

Crystal picked up her pen and clenched her jaw as she placed her shaky hand onto the page. Here goes nothing. 

_Please tell me this isn’t Tom Riddle…_

At least three minutes passed with nothing, and she started to relax. Maybe she was dreaming and it was starting to mess up. Or maybe she was hallucinating. Regardless, nothing was happening so she figured at the very least her Voldemort theory was out. 

Until she once again spied movement on the page. 

**_Who the hell is Tom Riddle?_ **

**Author's Note:**

> There we go! My first RDR2 work. This first chapter here is kinda short, but I was excited to get started and I felt that was a good point to end the chapter. Cliff hanger! Sorta. Please feel free to let me know what you think and my ask box is open if you wanted to hit that up (arthurmorganuniverse on tumblr). Since this is my first, feedback is CRUCIAL! Even if it’s just, “Hey, this is cool.”


End file.
